


Chrom Never Learned To Dance

by Jellyfisher2



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 07:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9537683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jellyfisher2/pseuds/Jellyfisher2
Summary: "It's hard trying to be vulnerable. Especially when it's so much easier to just pretend you don't have fantasies of going on dates and holding hands. (Tame, yes, but anything more extreme makes you feel creepy. He's still your commanding officer.)"If Robin was an expert in anything, it would be dancing around his feelings for Chrom.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a, a little late for Chrobin week, huh. My bad. I'm not a fast writer. 
> 
> This is just a short little one-shot, nothing too fancy but I thought I'd post it anyway.
> 
> BTW, this is in second person, so if that's an issue ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ that's how I like to write.

_For fuck's sake_ _._ You can face a horde of risen, an entire brigade, a  goddamn _bear_ by  _yourself_ , all with absolutely no problem; but somehow trying to talk about your feelings with the person you have feelings for is far too much to handle.

And it's not a lack of trying. You've come so close to confessing so many times, but either you're interrupted or you chicken out. And the latter happens far more than you care to admit. It's  hard trying to be vulnerable. Especially when it's so much easier to just pretend you don't have fantasies of going on dates and holding hands. (Tame, yes, but anything more extreme makes you feel creepy. He's still your commanding officer.)

Never the less, this tine you mean it! This time you'll tell Chrom exactly how you feel about him without wimping out!

 

...Or maybe not.

As it turns out, you were both so busy with preparation for tomorrow's battle that neither of you had a chance to talk about anything that didn't directly relate. Disappointing, yes, but you can't say you're not relieved.

Frustrated, you sit up in a cot, the thin blanket falling forward. You can't sleep, for a number of reasons. Your horrific murder-nightmares, the general anxiety of knowing you're fighting tomorrow, and extra anxiety about having to hide your feeling another day.

This is _so ridiculous!_ You've done things a thousands times harder than a simple confession! Why is this so _damn_ difficult!?

You stand up, unable to sit quietly anymore. You pace around, checking your desk and shuffling paper, before you're sick of that too and decide to take a walk. Probably to the kitchen to grab something to drink.

You let your mind wonder as you walk. And, of course, it immediately goes to Chrom. How his eyes shine, how he smiles with his whole face, how his arms look after training, how he's so great with  everything . You feel  so lucky to have him in your life. You want to stay in his life as long as you can. So, you probably shouldn't tell him about your feelings. It could freak him out, drive him away. Besides, he deserves someone as equally amazing as he is. You're not that someone. You're just some bum he found on the ground.

And yet, you still want to be selfish and take him for yourself.

You look up, the kitchen tent in front of you. It startles you out of your thoughts. You go inside and fix some leftovers. They end up going cold as you play with the pieces of carrots and potatoes.

"Can't sleep?" Chrom sits next to you and its all you can do from jumping in fright. Were you that zoned out?

You swallow a chunk of potato. "Yeah."

"I know how you feel." He leans his head on a hand. "I've fought in a hundred battles, but I still get the jitters."

"Tell me about it."You two talked for a while. It's small talk that helps you both forget about tomorrow.Chrom laughs at something you said, and butterflies explode in your stomach. You wanna hear it on repeat. Forever.

_ Wait, now's your chance _ _!_ There's no one around to interrupt you, no real excuses to leave, and you could always play it off as a joke if things went south. It's the perfect opportunity.

Chrom stretches, and just when you build enough courage to open your mouth, "It's late." Chrom says. "We should head to bed." You close your mouth and nod.

You both go outside and when Chrom starts walking off you grab his wrist. "I- wait."

"Robin?" He's concerned.

"I-" All it takes is one look into his eyes and you're done. Any courage you had is gone . "Sleep well."

"You as well." You wish you could capture Chrom's smile, in a painting or by some magical means. Just some way to keep it forever.

You stay, watching Chrom trod off to his tent, thinking,  _ 'I was named after the wrong bird'. _

 

Objectively, the battle goes perfectly, even better than you planned. Only one real hiccup to speak of.

Lissa almost slams into you as she walks through the tent's flaps. She quickly grabs your arms to keep her balance. "Oh! Robin! Are you hurt as well?"

"No, I'm just fine. I came by to check on Chrom." Worry eats at your gut, and has since you watched Chrom take a hit for you.

"Oh!" She turns and points. "He's in bed. He's not seriously hurt, one cut, some majoring bruising, but that's it. Everything internally is fine. But I'd still rather he stay for the night."

"Thank you so much, Lissa. I don't know what we'd do without you."

"I know. Now, I'm going to grab us dinner, should I bring you a plate?"

"Yes, please." She smiles and hurries away.

You walk inside, over to the line of beds. Chrom's there, picking at a bandage covering his arm. A giant, gnarly looking bruise covers his left check, running down his neck and lower into his shirt. You can't see it, but you know under the bandage is a massive wound. Even though you can't see it, your brain supplies the memory of it on the battlefield, caked in bloody chunks of sand. You feel sick.

Chrom looks up and when he sees you, he grins. "Hello Robin."

"What was that today?" His grin turns sheepish. "Chrom, you almost  _ died!" _

"But I didn't."

"This time! You can't do that again!" You're pacing, too angry to stand still.

"Do what? Protect you?" His eyes are piercing. "I will _always_ protect you."

"If I get hurt from my own lack of planing, that's on me, I can't ask you to take that hit."

"That wasn't your fault." He reaches out and takes one of your hands. His are warm. Your anger starts to dissipate. "It was a lucky shot none of us saw coming."

"Still!" You take your hand back. Holding his is distracting and you need him to understand. "This army needs you!"  _ I need you. _

"We need you as well."

"Chrom-"

"Robin, listen." He sits up straighter. It looks like he wants to grab your hand again, but stops short. "I can't say I'm sorry for what happened. Because I'm not. If you have my back then I'm supposed to have yours. And please, I'm begging, save me any more lecturing. I've gotten enough from Fredrick and Lissa to last a lifetime."

"Can," You take a deep breath. Your anger isn't gone, but you can't bring yourself to yell any longer. "Fine, I'll stop but can you at least tell me why?"

He glances away. "Ah, well." He looks back at you. Does he seem nervous? "Robin, I think I l-"

Lissa and Fredrick burst in, both carrying two trays of food. "Dinner!" You graciously take a tray. Chrom looks dejected, but takes a tray as well.You want to ask Chrom what he wanted to say, but Lissa starts chattering. You'll bring it up later tonight, if you remember.

You don't.

 

A week later, you're laying on your cot, exhausted from today's march. The hot, Peligian sun baring down all day didn't help things at all. Neither did the wind, or the sand being whipped by the wind.

"Robin?" A whisper from outside your tent. "Are you awake?"

You sit up. "Yeah, come in." It's Chrom. He's in pajamas and his hair is a mess. It's a very cute sight. You hide a chuckle in your hand.

He sits next to you. The bruise is fading fast. It's no longer a gross, dark purple. The wound on his arm is a shallow cut now. You're indescribably thankful that Lissa works quick.

"You're up late." You say.

"Well, I've been thinking hard and I couldn't wait to talk to you." He's got his serious voice on. Oh gods, this is it. This is the end. They've found your past and now he's kicking you out of the army. You're not ready, you-

A hand gently touches your cheek. Your eyes snap up to meet  _ beautiful _ blue ones. "It's taken me a while, but I finally understand how I've been feeling and," He takes a deep breath. And another one. And one more. His hand drops from your face to fan at his. "I-I'm sorry, just give me a minute." You snort despite yourself and the serious air is gone.

"Take your time." Secretly, you're enjoying seeing Chrom this flustered.

Chrom steels himself, holds both of your hands, looks into your eyes, and very quickly says, "Robin, I'm in love with you."

Did.

Wait.

 

Hold on.

 

Did you hear that right? _He's_ in- He's  _ what ? _

 

_ What??? _

 

"Robin? Did I say something wrong?" His thumb brushes tears off your cheek.

_ Oh, I'm crying _ _._ "Do, do you really mean that? Because if this is a joke-"

"It's not, I swear! I really do love you!" Your heart jumps, no  _ leaps _ out of your chest. "I would never joke about this. You mean so much to me, and I know you haven't been here that long, but you just, you feel so special to me and you make me so happy and-" He continues to ramble on, but your brain is fried, still stuck on Holy Hell This Is Real.

"And, and if you don't feel the same, I understand." Both of his hand fall away from you, landing at his sides. It's cold without him. "I thought you should at least know my feelings."

...

"Uh...Robin?" You blink. "You you haven't said anything in a while. Should I go?"

Your brain  finally catches up. You blurt out, "I love you, too." And Chrom's face lights up in a way you've never seen before but will cherish until your dying day. He reaches forward, crushing you with a hug. You hug him back, burying your face in his pajama shirt.

You thank every god out there Chrom didn't dance around like you.

**Author's Note:**

> If I had a name for my writing style it would be "Overused Italics".


End file.
